Teach Me To Be A Hero
by MrsDarcy14
Summary: After the death of the king, Albion must pick up the broken pieces of a time once lost. His daughter must make a choice; leave home and become the ruler the land is waiting for, or follow her brother in tyranny? Based on game, bit varied
1. Chapter 1

**Hey guys. I promise I'm not dead, haha. I have been with my good friend operaghost517...playing Fable 3... XD**

**We are in love with it haha. Aaaanyways...here is a story I thought up. I like writing off of Logan! But it follows the Hero...so don't worry. **

**Thanks so much!**

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"Walter," the small voice asked, "teach me." The older man sitting on the edge of the bed chuckled, waiting for the second part of the question to be said.

"Teach you what, child?" he said with a smile. Looking into the young princess's eyes, he could just make out the ghost of her father; the king who was away on an adventure and could not tuck his child into bed.

In a defiant voice she finished, "teach me to be a hero."

Walter sighed, rubbing his hands over his eyes, thinking about simpler days and easier times. The sword in his hands felt ten times heavier than it ever had, which had nothing to do with his increasing age. Times in Albion were tough, worse than they had been in years. The old king's health was failing. A not well-known fact throughout the country. For anyone else the age Sparrow had reached would have killed him or her years ago. Being a Hero, though, had special perks. Walter knew that sometimes when things got especially rough around the castle, the old king would talk about going to his sanctuary, a place no one considered to actually exist. Perhaps it was just an escape for the ruler, somewhere around the castle no one knew about. But by any means, it kept him sane and that was what mattered.

Bringing himself back to the present, Walter looked at the young boy in front of him. Spitting orders at the maid about his lunch, he ignored his mentor behind him.

"Logan…" Walter started.

"I said white bread, woman! With turkey, do you understand? T-U-R-K-E-Y!"

"Logan, stop that now…"

"Don't tell me what to do, Walter. I stated for her loud and clear." The prince turned back to the girl who was cowering away from the boy who must have been four of five years younger than her.

"Logan! I sad stop! For God's sake, boy, it's a bloody sandwich. Just drop it." After staring at the maid for a minute, he added, "and this is the maid who doesn't speak English, so for all the yelling in the world she will not know a word you say."

A small flush filled the prince's cheeks, and he quietly muttered, "oh." He gave an apologetic smile to the maid, and she scurried off as he turned to face Walter.

"Don't look at me like that, boy. You know you were too hard on her. The people will soon look up to you, so you better start giving them a reason to look forward to it." Poor Logan knew of his father's disease, an incurable thing that racked his body with aches and a cough that sounded as if his lungs were slowly flooding with water. In the old books, all Hero's died this way. Fate, it seemed, had inevitably taken one last dance with King Sparrow, and was slowly waltzing him into Death's awaiting hold.

Logan's face hardened as it did whenever he thought of his father these days. Becoming a king at fifteen was hardly an appealing thought. In fact, it was one that filled his stomach with dread and fear when he thought about it for too long. To be honest it scared him. Losing so much in a short time was taking its toll; at least he still had Walter and his sister.

Turning back to Walter, he took a deep breath and said, "You're right. I'm sorry Walter. There's just been…a lot going on lately and I keep coming up short tempered. Honest, I didn't mean it."

Walter gave Logan a long look, and then said, "You know, boy, as king, things like that won't be let go so easily. People will look to _you_ for answers, good call or not. So just be careful who you truest. Many people out there will be ready to use you for your power. Taking the throne is not easy. Especially at a young age. Your father, I know you don't want to talk about it, but just hear me out, isn't going to be around for much longer. We are both going to have to start working towards plans together." Walter walked over to the prince and knelt down to eye level, wiping a tear off his cheek with his thumb. "Your mother would have been so proud." He whispered. Logan's eyes shone with the past, and he started to cry openly. Walter stayed where he was for a moment before standing up, resolved to give Logan a bit of privacy.

"We can be done practicing sword fighting for today. You're bloody marvellous with that thing by now, I'll have to ask new recruits to start training with you!" and smiled down at him. As he was leaving, he rested his sword up against the wall by the door and told Logan he would see him at dinner, shutting the thick wooden door softly behind him.

Logan remained in the middle of the training room kneeling on his knees. He had a sudden rush of emotion in front of Water, and was glad no one else was there to see. Looking around the broad room, he took it all in. The two sets of wooden doors, one leading to the hall and the other to his father's sacred War Room, the racks of practice swords below the windows, and the Albion seal painted on the ground below him. He knew that one day shortly he would be ruler of all of this. It would all be his.

Tears flowed heavily down his face now as a thought occurred to him. Something that scared him, yes, but it was so true it ran around inside his head, mocking him for all he was worth.

Logan did not want to be king.

Walter exited the practice room and slowly walked down the hallway. Things were worse than they had first appeared with that boy. Losing his family had taken a rough toll on him, and he wasn't sure that he could help him much longer. Trying to clear his head of all thoughts of the like, he headed towards the back courtyard. This was a place where the life of court did not follow you. A simple garden filled with flowers and fountains helped keep the balance of power and the people in check, for many secret corners were meeting places for the stealthy minds. Looking out over the plaza, Walter spotted the princess Peyton playing in the ponds. She was attempting to learn to swim with a kitchen staff's son, who Walter did not know.

The princess was younger than Logan by seven years. Living in the mind of half child half teen was hard for the eight-year-old girl. She didn't understand that while the other children of the court ran around in the mud with no reprimanding from their parents, she had to yield by her father's side, staying clean and tidy. To her, princess was just another word, like flower or mud or castle. Taking the life she had for granted was not a trait of being vain for she had witnessed no other way of life. The garden boundaries were too high for her too see over, although her new friend told her the rest of the word was little dots, seen from afar and much too many. She was glad for her friend, although she did not know his name; he liked trying to swim as much as she did.

Strolling over to two children, Walter came to the edge of the pond and asked, "What are you two trying to do, drown yourselves?" he chuckled.

"Walter! Did you see what we found? A whole lake to ourselves!" the princess laughed from a rock three feet from the older man.

"Oh, why yes I did. Hmm…now the only question left is if you can swim all the way over here so that Jasper can clean you up for dinner? And who is we?" Walter directed the last part of the question at the boy in the water.

"Oh, hello! My name is Elliot." He informed them both with a smile. Of course the princess wouldn't tell him she did not know his name, she was glad to know her new friends name. "Walter, watch me swim!" she yelled excitedly, and began flouncing about in the water towards Walter. The water was only over a foot high, but she was so determined to swim it that Walter had to laugh. Peyton set her mouth in a line and kicked off from the rock, making back after Eliot went in one foot from the shore and pulled her. With Walter chuckling, she asked, "Walter, can Heros swim?"

He looked her in the eye and answered, "Well, that depends. If you are stuck on an island with balverines all around you, and you know they do not like water, do you swim?"

Peyton stood defiantly and told him, "Then teach me to be a Hero," as she had so many times before.

"Yes, yes princess of course. Just after dinner, alright? You need some meat on those bones if you want to be a Hero."

Peyton nodded at him and took Jasper's hand into the caste. Elliot waved good-bye to Walter and ran off to another part of the garden.

Walter sighed and took one last moment to admire the city bellow before turning to head in for dinner. Soon, very soon, he would head down to discuss with Page the upcoming events.

As Jasper led the princess Peyton into her chambers, she told him about her adventures with Elliot and the pond. "And I swam all the way across the lake, Jasper! It took for so long! And I placed a flower on the rock for mommy like I said I would if I reached it." At the last part, her face fell a little and she turned away, not wanting her butler to see her tears. The old man placed her dinner gown on the bed and told her to be ready in an hour, for her father was dinning with them tonight.

She beamed at the last part and let the maids who had entered clean her of the murky pond water and brush her tangled curls out into a reasonable mane. After her hair shone and her skin was clean, the little princess walked into the hallway adorning her new dress. A light pink gown with lace down the front, she liked the girly thing. "Jasper? Will I meet father in his room or at the table?"

"Your father requested that you meet him at his door, your highness," he responded, and Peyton danced down the hall to his room. The carpet under her feet was decorated with florals and the symbol of Albion across the floor. Once she approached the doors, she slowed to a stop and lightly knocked on the old king's door. A hacking cough greeter her as the barrier was slowly pulled back to reveal her father.

"Dad…" Peyton said as King Sparrow walked into the hall. The room behind him had no light, giving the illusion he had been all alone. He turned and faced his daughter, smiling at the sight of her. Once, the king had been extremely handsome. He cast hearts all over Albion into flutters as he walked by. But years of travelling, ruling a kingdom, and grief over the loss of his wife had cast shadows and scars that no amount of potion could erase.

Sparrow patted the girl's head, asking about her day as the descended towards the dinning hall. Listening to her ramble about a lake, he had a sudden flash back to the blind seer telling him the future of his children. After that day he swore to not have a child, therefore dooming the fate of the world to no one. But his wife wanted kids so badly he had to agree. Logan had been a handful, but he loved him dearly. A son to be born first, what more could a king ask for. He knew Logan was having a hard time dealing with the times, hell, they all were. The queen had been particularly close with her son. They had done nearly everything together. She always took him to the market so he could see the way people felt the effects of every decision made high above in the castle. Gone fishing. Swimming. They read together in the library. The thought of his deceased wife suddenly overcame him and he had to stop, leaning on a table in the hallway for support. Sometimes he just missed her so much…then Peyton's voice broke through to him. "Father? We're almost there. It's diner time." His family…he had to keep on. Had to move and smile and laugh as though nothing were wrong. Just a little longer…

Everyone in the room rose when the King entered the dinning hall. Logan saw his sister run in ahead of their father and became a bit envious that he hadn't been called to walk the king in, but kept his face up and smiled at his father. Walter watched the king's movement and the forced expression on his face; they had travelled together for too long for him not to know him by now. "Hello everyone. Hope I haven't been keeping you for too long, eh?" many laughed at the king's addresses, giving him a familiar tone of comfort. "I just want to thank you all for coming tonight. As you know, things are not, ah, doing as well as we had planned. But it will work out, just like it always does, and the better Albion will emerge victorious once more. We are all so close…" the king finished his small speech with a nod of his head and took his seat at the top of the table.

As the king sat down, Walter swore under his breath when a look of pain crossed his old friend's face, for not many around him knew the amount that would cause him to break. He could only hope that he could recover, which was unlikely at this point, or go peacefully to join his wife and be released from the lashing chains that bound him to the mortal word.

Once the meal had been finished and the tables cleared, everyone headed out to their rooms. Logan walked his sister back to hers, and became the fourth person that day to listen to her great feat of the lake. He smiled and teased her at all the right moments for they were close siblings. Logan had always treated Peyton well.

Walter took Sparrow by the arm and supported him the whole way back to his chambers. "Come on, old friend…we're almost there…" he encouraged all the while. But the king coughed and wheezed to no end, raising an alarm throughout the castle for the doctor to be sent for and the children to be called.

When the doctor arrived, he took Walter and Jasper into a seclude corner to tell them the news. The old king was not going to improve, that much was determined. By the way he was looking things would be much worse by morning. If he managed to last that long. Jasper looked back at the man's children gathered on his bed, holding their father's hands and trying to keep him distracted. Logan. Tall, lean, headstrong, and caring Logan sat on his father's right side, telling a story from when the two of them had been out exploring the land and saw a hobbe for the first time. Something made the old king smile and the boy give a forced shaky laugh, bringing tears to Jasper's eyes. Looking away and off to the other corner he saw he was not alone. Others were suspended in watching Logan and his father, for Peyton was drifting in between sleep and awareness and had her head resting on the king's chest. Walter was staring at the scene, eye line unbroken and teary. The two men glanced at each other for a moment, both recognizing that this would be the end of a very dear friend, and a way of life would be slowly drifting to the past.

A few hours later, the wheezing from the king increased, drawing Walter and Jasper closer to the king. Logan had joined his sister and fallen asleep on his father's chest. The king looked at the men, one last burst of strength surging through him before his body would perish. "You two know how long I have waited for my time. Much longer than anyone around me has, and all I've seen is more death. The death of a time, the death of my people, and the death of my loved ones," the king looked away at this, overcome with emotion. "I can't continue to protect them the way I have been, and they will both take this so hard. Logan…watch after him. His mother passing was hard enough on the lad, I just hope this won't rip him apart. As king, he won't have time for mistakes, so please, Walter, become his head advisor." Walter bowed his head in acknowledgement of the role he was to undertake. "Jasper, you have always kept me one step ahead of organized, so I ask only the same for my son. And as for Peyton…" he moved to take the necklace he was wearing off his neck, handing it to Jasper for safe keeping. "This…this will be part of your future more than the three of you shall know. Guard it with you life, you hear?" Jasper stared transfixed at the object and the king repeated at him, "You here? You cannot lose it, you cannot trade it, it cannot fall into the hands of another. Please, Jasper, with your life…" This time, the servant responded with enthusiasm, emphasising his condition by putting in on. The king laid back down, muttering to himself. He looked each of the men in the eyes and thanked them again, and then slipped into the world of the afterlife. All observers in the room bowed their head in respect for the death of the king; the last Hero of Albion.

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**Thanks! R&R! :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey all! So. I am in love with writting Fable. It's such a different world than anything else...**

**So I hope you're liking it! And you all know I don't own anything associated with this world...just my charater's personalities :)**

**Now I have a favor of you to ask. I know this story is going to be a romance...I just don't know who yet. If you could review with who you want, example Ben Finn or Elliot, then that would help SOO much!**

**Thanks! And here's chapter two!**

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The day the old Hero king was positioned into the ground, heaven's eyes poured down like those of a child who had lost their parents.

Which two of them had.

Logan stood by his younger sister under the cover of the umbrella held in place by Jasper, holding Peyton's tiny shoulder in his grasp. A crowd had gathered, all dressed in black, in the gardens on the far side of the castle gates. A monument had been erected hundreds of years ago that held the graves of many of the great rulers of Albion.

The crowd was on either side of the pathway cleared for the procession, which at the moment was marching slowly in front of the siblings. Logan felt his sister take a slight step back into him, and he squeezed her shoulder in comfort. He knew she had been acting strong earlier, but now felt her shake with each hushed sob she emitted. Losing both their parents would be so hard...Logan was almost unsure of how they would carry on. But he glanced around and saw the faces of those that he knew loved and cared for the small pair. There was Jasper; ever faithful and always ready with a sarcastic comment to help you laugh. Walter was more than a mentor to both the children. He became a parental figure when the late queen passed, another father to look up to. He was so, so glad for that support now. When they would need it the most...

The signal was given to open the golden door that opened to the cavernous resting place for king Sparrow and the procession halted for a moment. A man in his late fifties lifted his heavy self upon a pedestal and began his speech conveying the life of the deceased. He had been close to the king, so his account was highly listened to. But not by his son, who was staring out over the city, imagining the weight of the crown that was to be placed on his head a thousand times heavier than when he had picked it up, for so much more had happened and reminded him of the past. The smoke twisting its way from the chimneys to the sky above entranced him, and Logan watched the designs playing into shape ahead of him. He saw a cat, and a flower, and the smiling face of his mother. One last image quickly flashed in the sky before he jolted himself back to the present, and it was the picture of a woman wearing a long hood covering her eyes, one hand beckoning him towards her.

A series of three gun shots signaled the end of the funeral, and the mass dispersed to leave. Logan and Peyton were allowed to stay by themselves in the garden while people muttered their apologizes for a crime that wasn't blameful to them.

Peyton looked up at her brother finally and spoke in a surprisingly clear voice, "He's gone now." It wasn't so much a question, but a finalizing point for the young girl. Logan looked at her and realized that while it was hard for him, she was only eight years old. Learning to deal without any parents seemed a daunting task, and only one they could complete with each other close by.

Peyton looked helplessly out to a city she didn't know. No memories were held in an alleyway, or a laugh shared with a stall vendor. She cast Logan one more look before turning to walk up to the castle. Shouting from the kitchen staff caught her attention, and with nothing better to do she wandered over to see what the matter was.

A tall man in a cook's outfit was yelling at the delivery boy about something, perhaps a wrong order filled. Peyton walked into the kitchen and was enveloped with a blanket of warm air and wonderful smells. The box that held the orders sat on the counter, so she ambled that way. As the princess approached the box, it gave a startled "yelp!" and shook precautiously close to the edge of the table. Startled herself, Peyton looked back over to the cook, who was still arguing with the boy and pointing to the box, so she slowly crept closer. Heart racing about what could be resting inside the crate; Peyton pulled herself up to the level of the box and peeked inside.

"Oh, yuck!" she yelled as a wet slobbery object whipped itself across her face. "What is THAT!" she yelled, calling the attention of both the men in the room. The cook hurried over apologizing, "Oh! Princess! You shouldn't be down here, what are you doing? Oh, so you found the dog..." and picked the beast up out of the carrier. Heart still hammering from the shock, Peyton found that the dog was simply adorable. It looked like a baby retriever of some sorts.

The furry thing flopped its way over to her and pushed her to the ground, immediately licking her face again. Jumping forward to stop the animal, the cook stopped when he saw the girl half smile and pet the dog back. "You know, your highness, he seems to really like you." With a nod at the delivery boy, he added, "Would you like to keep it?"

Peyton's eyes went wide. The thought of someone...a companion...anyone...

"I would love to. Thank you, cook. And..." she trailed off, not knowing the delivery boy's name He just laughed and tipped his hat to her, picking up the now empty box and leaving the kitchen to head back to Bowerstone Market.

Peyton stood up and clapped her hands, hoping the dog would follow. She wanted to show Elliot her new friend. As the duo left the warm castle, Peyton had no idea where to go in order to find him. She avoided looking back at the gardens, for any thought of what happened this morning would set her into a sobbing mess.

"Oh, Peyton! There you are!" Elliot called across the small hallway. Relief flooded the young girl at the sound of his voice, and she ran over to him. "Elliot!" she cried and threw herself into his arms. Just because she was young didn't mean she couldn't feel older emotions. Rage at the world and sorrow crashed over her once she was safely in his arms, and soon she began crying again. Elliot moved her to a hidden bench and sat her down, holding her and making shushing noises to calm her. The princess of Albion had been broken.

After a long while, Peyton finally started to relax. She pulled back to look at Elliot and asked, "How did you do it? How did you manage to survive after you lost her?" Looking so helpless and needy, Elliot ignored the fact that he was clueless as to how she had learned of his parents' death. He drew a shaky breath and explained, "Well, you don't move on. I mean, not really. They're your parents and you love them, but every child soon sees that they won't be there forever. We all have to learn to live on alone." Peyton just stared at him, his deep brown eyes shown with the beginning of a few tears. He stared at a point off in the distance not wanting to look at Peyton just yet. Nothing was said, but Elliot continued his story. "You know, it was bandits that got her. We were just sitting at home one night and they showed up out of nowhere. I luckily ran out to the forest and hid in the trees. But mom...they...well, you know. And Ben was taken hostage. When it was all over, I walked away from the village and never looked back. Dad and I had nothing left to love..." He had to stop to cover his eyes for a moment, overcome with telling again of his mother's death.

Peyton looked at the boy in front of her and realized something; she would heal. From the time of her father's actual death to the funeral had been a few long weeks. Over that time she came to fact that her parents were dead and gone. Moving on had been a bit easier for Peyton, but looking back was not something she ever sought after to do.

The dog nudged her hand resting on her lap. Looking down, she thought about what she could name the caramel colored pup. Closing her eyes to think of her Latin training, she thought of the perfect name. "Animosa." She spoke out loud. The dog's ears perked up and he opened his mouth to let out a small bark. Elliot looked at Peyton waiting for an explanation for the strange word she had uttered. "It means strong, noble, courage; all things I'll need in my life now." Peyton stood to go, and told Elliot she would see him soon. As she left, she squeezed his hand for one short second, then walked away.

Elliot watched the princess walk away with a new sort of feeling inside him. She was everything royalty was supposed to be. Kind, gracious, polite, well-mannered, and everything in between. But it was just now that he was realizing how pretty she was. He blushed at the last thought and pushed it out of his head. As she rounded the corner and disappeared from sight, he jumped up and ran down the hall the opposite direction. He didn't want to think about girls or gross stuff like that. He was only nine years old! So he let his feet take him back to the kitchen to forget why everyone was hiding their red blotched faces from the world on the day the beloved king was buried.

The young princess had no destination, only to get away. Knowing the castle was the last place she wanted to be, she grabbed her hooded cloak and started off towards Bowerstone Market to see the city for the first time. As she descended the stairs of the castle and into the more urban area she felt a twinge of panic. She shouldn't be here. It's not her place. They won't like her to be here. But knowing that she couldn't turn back she compelled herself to keep going.

The market itself was a noisy place. The pub, inn, and shops attracted a lot of people for the majority of the crowds. But especially this week when so many from across the land had gathered to lay their ruler to rest. There were men dressed in thick furs and well-worn clothes of browns, red, and gold hues. The simple threads of the Market inhabitants included dresses of blue and grey, shirts that were layered with vests and boots that looked rather uncomfortable. Peyton felt a bit out of place in her plain princess attire of blue leggings, tan boots, a brown skirt and matching top that allowed her to run around but still look elegant.

For hours, she wandered the town and began to love learning new things about the people. Exploring the area felt right; she wanted to know so much more than she did at the moment. No one recognized her as royalty all day. Peyton met some of the nicest people and guards all over the town. Today was a day of mourning, so most of the shops were closed, but one of the food vendors gave her a sandwich on the house because "it was what the old king would have done" for a small girl like herself. She sat under the clock tower in the center of the village and just people watched for a long while. A man behind her played lute quiet well and accumulated a bag full of money for his time.

Finally when the sun began to set, Peyton slowly stood up and stretched. Running sounded like a good idea after her hours of idleness, so she started her way back home. Hopefully Walter wouldn't be too upset that she needed an escape for the day and would welcome her back fully happy.

Peyton could see now why her mother had loved this place so much, and why her father ruled with such care and compassion for the people. After all, it's not the buildings or structures that make a kingdom.

It's the people who inhabit it and love it as if their own.

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**R&R! And let me know whoooo! **

**Ben or Elliot... love them both :)**


	3. Chapter 3

**So ignoring the fact that I took a hundred years to update, I recently got back into Fable 3! And this story just started to speak to me again, and I've got about three or four chapters ready to go, which I will be putting up in the next few weeks. I can't apologize enough to you all, but here is chapter 3!**

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Ten winters had passed since that day of the old king's funeral; ten harsh winters that shook the people's bones with wind rattling up the streets, and blankets of snow pressing fast upon the town to silence all arbitrary noises. Ten years of hard times slowly becoming worse. With each passing year, more and more citizens were forced to live on the streets, their only occupation as begging. Coughs and fits of sneezing plagued them in the winter, and the numbers slowly dwindled behind closed doors. It was not public news that the city held a rotten core, with disease and the new labor regimes; it was truly the city of the downtrodden.

But with ten years of winters came ten summers. The summers in Albion were truly beautiful. Carnivals sprang up with the traveling caravans of people. The sun washed away the cold from every dark corner and brightened the mood of people gracefully passing through it. Things never seemed as harsh in the lazy months of summer, and work slowed to a pace that matched the feeling in the air. In the evenings, children would run about and catch fireflies in jars and hang them in windows and down the streets, giving everywhere a magical feeling of awe and amazement. It lifted spirits of the people, and put smiles on even the most ill-tempered of citizens. Some areas never recovered from that summer haze, and they permanently retained a feeling of lazy content.

One such corner was occupied by a tree, and someone dozing peacefully below it, seeming without a care in the world. The long figure spread out with their head resting softly on the tree roots that poked through the brown dirt. One hand was behind their head acting as a pillow, and the other rested down by their side. A hat was pulled over their face to both shield the sun out and other people, showing to be a well-used resource for both. Besides the figure was a snoozing dog, with his head resting on the person's side, and it rose and fell softly with each breath that passed through the resting citizen. Although the Royal Garden was one of the best hiding spots for children in a game, unfortunately for the princess it was not. Many passed by and chuckled at the lame disguise of leggings, short boots, a skirt attached to a corset and the staple blue headband that was always on Princess Peyton rather gave her away. But, nonetheless, she attempted this ruse of closing her eyes every once in a while and escaping it all.

Her favorite spot was a tree by the brook on the right side of the garden, behind the small awning and by a statue. Of whom she didn't know, but Peyton loved it because she was still in view of the strange vault of her father, and if she sat up she could look out upon the city and beyond the bay. She honestly had no idea what lay outside the city of Bowerstone, and had urges to explore on particularly hard days of castle life. But she knew her place was at court and had done little but in her imagination to change it.

"Oy! I heard that somewhere along here lies a traitor…one so fowl to the name of the crown that up in the castle, they are considering disowning her entirely…" a voice called out to the sleeping form. Peyton groaned, and with great effort rolled to her side to block out the nuisance.

"That's right. I heard that she is so…" the voice sounded like it struggled to come up with the right term, "ugly, yeah, that, umm…well Peyton I don't think you're ugly but usually you get up by now…" and with that Peyton launched herself with a grin at the taunter behind her. "Elliot!" she called with delight, "You're back! Oh, how I've missed you!" He laughed and swung her around, and put her right back up to take a look at her.

"I've only been gone three weeks," he chastised. "Oh, I don't care, it's not like there is anyone else in this castle that I call my best friend." She looked up at him. His brown hair had grown a bit in the length of his journey, so that it almost brushed the tops of his dark eyes. He had a thin nose that stuck out straight, and a jaw that left her weak in the knees. For years she had secretly pinned after him, but it was all in vain. Elliot on many occasions had told her of his violent passions for a blond daughter of a visiting duke or something, and the one night they spent locked in the kitchen during an invading attack. Peyton always had doubted his tale, but it still hurt when she heard him go on about it. Apparently, the duke's daughter had been ready to rip his clothes off right then and there, but patient, virtuous Elliot had stowed her hand and stolen a few kisses instead.

He ruffled her hair a bit, something he knew she hated, and put an arm to guide her back to the castle. "Now, shall we raid the kitchen for lunch, or do you think Steward will give us a few tidbits nicely?" Peyton giggled lightly and covered her mouth with her hand. The two ran lowly up to the kitchen window, hiding beneath the overhang and in the shadows. Peyton and Animosa waited while Elliot peeked over the ledge and into the kitchen. He was the only one tall enough to see in, and with long enough arms to reach food items that were left unattended. A few moments later, he popped back down and whispered, "Run!" and took off towards the gardens again. Payton let out a victory yell and tore off after him. At now eighteen years old, her legs had plenty of time to become accustomed to the strange bouts of exercise she managed to get. She hated to think that she would become out of shape by sitting and standing in court all day, but she knew one day that it would come, so Peyton took every opportunity to run that she could. And climb trees, although that was a less common event nowadays. But it helped her training with Walter and holding a sword if she had more arm muscle than flab. Speed was her ally, dodging and avoiding many disapproving glances and hands that attempted to slow her steps.

Elliot stopped by the stream just beyond the castle walls, which led off to a waterfall into the bay. His face was glowing from the rush of getting away with their silly act and a healthy flush from the running. He laughed, and whipped one arm across his forehead to stop sweating. Peyton stopped to just watch him for a moment, and notice just how much he had grown from when they first met. Then a small chubby boy who was at the least a head below her, he now stood five or even six inches above her. Peyton loved to feel like a little, prized woman, when she knew in reality it wasn't so. Walter told her she was born with her mother's grace and form…meaning she had broad shoulders, which were good for fighting, wide hips, good for child birth, and stood tall. Peyton loved her height, especially as someone in royal command. It often gave her a slight advantage in political situations to help people take her more seriously.

But Elliot…he truly had the look of his mother about him. She had been a noble in the court before she died, and was still renowned for her beauty. None of which had missed Elliot. Peyton knew that people expected it of her to marry him, but the thought gave her such butterflies she had to stop and collect her train of thought before she could meet him by the water.

He threw down his spoils and looked at her proudly. Elliot had managed to grab two slabs of cheese, three apples, a skin of water, and two thick pieces of bread. "Elliot!" she exclaimed, worried that they had too much. But he just chuckled in response. "To be honest, I had the kitchen lay them out earlier…I just wanted to impress you by managing it all." Ah, and Peyton had never forgotten the heart of gold that beat strongly inside his chest. She laughed and lightly punched him in the shoulder, then sat down to enjoy their feast.

Looking out over the water, Peyton strained her eyes as far as she could, but just like always there was only the horizon. Elliot looked over at her and started for a moment. Peyton opened her mouth, then closed it, only to open it once more. "Well, are you going to speak or just make fish sounds all day?" he laughed when she looked at him slightly embarrassed. "Well, I was just thinking...I'm the princess, right?" he looked at her blankly for a moment, then raised an eyebrow to urge her forward. "And as a princess, I should be made to rule, well I guess if queen but just go with it, over all different kinds of people. Lords and ladies sure, but also merchants, and factory laborers, and wood cutters, and farmers. And all my life, I've never been beyond the walls of this city. See, just over there," she pointed to the city limits and traced a rough line, "is as far as I have ever been. To me, that just seems so…_wrong. _How can anyone trust me to know what is best when I cannot leave the safety of one place?" She set down her apple to think. "I couldn't. I couldn't do it. To trust someone over such a vast diversity of people who has no knowledge of them seems horribly ironic."

Looking at her now, Elliot could tell that Peyton not only had a point, but would be a much better ruler than her brother ever could be. So much had been placed on her shoulders, and like the ancient holder of the scales, Peyton made sure that nothing fell or created an unbalance in the universe. She was the one good thing left in the royal family that didn't reek of rot and corruption. A mind that spanned legions of people, reached across forests and deserts, and yet could isolate the single crystal that held the equilibrium.

Elliot moved in a bit closer to ask a question and her breath caught slightly in her throat, but before he could, screams broke the moment and called them both to look towards the castle. A young woman came running out of the castle, stumbling and looking around desperately. "Help! Please, God no I meant no harm. Oh, no no no…" she continued as she move. A dark figure strode out behind her, with six guards flanking and spreading out like a smoke cloud behind him. The woman's eyes grew wide when she saw the purple guards and tried to plead with one, saying that her son was at home taking care of another child, and she was all they had left. The guard appeared not to have heard or cared, for in one swift motion he drew his gun, fired a bullet into her head, and placed the shining murderer back into its holster. King Logan's mouth contorted into something of a smile, but there was nothing happy about the situation in any terms. He turned to face the horrified people in the yard. "My subjects, here we have someone who…betrayed the royal crown." Peyton was about to stand up and protest when Elliot caught her around the waist with one hand, bringing her to sit in his lap and using his other hand to gently cover her mouth. She stopped wiggling and moved in closer to his chest, slightly resting against his figure. "This woman," Logan continued, "came into my home, begged me to save her children from a deadly disease, and when I told her it could not be done, she proceeded to spit upon my face and attempt to run off with some of my precious silver acquired in my family by my father. Let this be an example to you all; order must be upheld, and obeyed I shall be. That will be all."

Peyton by this point was limp in Elliot's' arms. She was flabbergasted; someone had tried to steal from the royal family? In front of Logan? And tried to get away? Something didn't add up. Elliot turned her to face him and said, "You saw none of this. You shall not speak to your brother about it because we both remember what came of you talking out of turn last time. I am certain that woman was not doing anything Logan accused her of, but bringing her up with only cause harm to her family, you hear me? I will ask Walter to attend to the children, but _you were not here._" His eyes were dark when he spoke, but also full of concern for her well-being.

As Peyton tried to go to sleep that night, she shuddered at what Elliot had told her earlier. She did well remember what happened last time, but shut out the memories that haunted her dreams for months after, causing her to wake herself screaming while covered with sweat. Animosa sensed something was wrong and moved in closer to Peyton. Wrong might be a small word to describe it, Peyton thought, but there was something indeed needed to be fixed in the kingdom of Albion.

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